


Insult to Injury

by dendraica



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Consensual Sex, M/M, Possessive Dagur, Tuff is attention-starved, canon divergent - season 2 events either haven't occurred yet or happened differently, constant insults actually take a toll on the twins, redemption arc, torn between two sides
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-05-19 11:49:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5966338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendraica/pseuds/dendraica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of a short fic titled : "Instability" from the Horns and Helmet collection.</p><p>Tuffnut is captured by Dagur when the Berserkers carry out a surprise raid on The Edge. Things go from bad to worse when Tuff later becomes enamored with his captor - for reasons that are far from healthy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Instability

Not many things could make Tuffnut Thorston cower away from a fight, but one of the few exceptions stood in front of him, grinning and expertly twirling the horned blade in his fingers. Below Tuff’s heels was the brittle cliff’s edge, harsh wind at his back. His sister had gotten away at least, but he had been luckless.

“So, open to thoughts about where my dear brother could have taken off to. I mean, I came all the way over here to pay him a visit. Doesn’t he want to see me?”

Dagur’s expression was the epitome of hurt feelings, but Tuffnut knew better.

“I have no ideas actually,” Tuff replied, wishing he could take another step back. It was a long and lethal fall if he gave into that urge. "Maybe he went to your ship to visit you?“

“Maybe,” Dagur said, looking amused. Almost friendly. Then his face contorted and Tuff had nowhere to run as Dagur rapidly closed the distance between them. His jaw was held painfully in the deranged chieftain’s grip, the only thing that had saved him from flinching backwards to his death. Tuff whimpered nervously as the gleaming silver blade rested just beneath his left eye.

“You know one of the things I always liked about you, Tuffnut? Your eyes are so beautifully expressive; even now as they widen from terror. Such a pretty shade of blue. I believe I’ll take them as a cherished memory of our time together. Unless you have something better to give me?”

It had been the same when he’d first encountered Dagur entirely on his own. A poem or his legs. Tuff had thought fast then, and he’d have to think fast now. As usual, he went with the first thing that popped into his head, trusting to Loki that it would help him.

Dagur made a startled noise and nearly dropped the knife as Tuff’s lips crashed against his. It jerked slightly, making a shallow cut across his cheekbone. A split second later and Dagur was dominating the kiss, seemingly more of an attempt to control the situation than anything else.

An arm snaked around Tuff’s waist and he was spun away from the ledge. Dagur delivered a bruising bite to his lips - a warning or maybe a dark promise - before shoving him into the arms of two other Beserkers. “Watch him,” Dagur ordered curtly. He looked Tuff over for a long uncomfortable minute before grinning, sharp toothed.

“Later,” he hissed, sheathing the knife. Dagur went ahead, barking for his men to follow. Tuff did not resist as he was marched along, heart beating in his ears.

In retrospect, maybe the first idea wasn’t always the best.


	2. Infatuation

He didn’t take his eyes off Tuffnut as the captured rider was ‘escorted’ onto the ship. Even as Dagur started assigning duties to make ready to sail, that gaze bore into him like blades. Tuffnut subtly tilted his head, straining to hear any sound of winged rescue overhead.

“ _You_ ,” Dagur’s voice snapped in close proximity, making him flinch. “Are coming with me.”

Tuff found himself being dragged over to the ship’s cabin by the wrist. It wasn’t necessarily a painful grip, but it wasn’t pleasant. He couldn’t help but dig in his heels just a little. Dagur yanked Tuffnut inside, shoving him off balance onto a stretched dragon hide rug.

Within seconds of Tuff hitting the floor, Dagur was kneeling over him, eyes alive with a wolfish energy. That frightening gaze studied him just a moment longer before the chieftain latched his mouth onto Tuffnut’s. When the startled rider tried to squirm away, Dagur delivered a punishing bite - hard enough to draw blood.

Tuff went very still, convinced Dagur’s teeth would rend his flesh if he moved wrong. The thought alone sent a warm thrill curling in his belly, even as logic insisted this was a bad situation; one he should be very unhappy with.

Eventually, Dagur eased up. He broke the kiss then reached up to lightly stroke the bloodied indents his teeth had made. Tuff shuddered lightly, hands still pressed against Dagur’s chest in an aborted attempt to push the Berserker off. Done with caressing him, Dagur gripped his wrists, pinning Tuff’s arms over his head.

From this angle, he intently studied the trembling rider. The ruthless grin on his face belied the look in his eyes, which was downright feral; mistrusting. Tuff had the distinct (and correct) impression he shouldn’t indulge in his normal level of spontaneous humor right now.

Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and shakily lifted his chin to expose more of his throat. Hopefully submissiveness was the right answer as far as Dagur was concerned.

Tuffnut didn’t see the Berserker chieftain’s eyes widen in surprise, but the sudden thrilled laughter was as unnerving as ever. Dagur leaned in to take a mouthful of skin over his jugular, sucking hard until Tuff writhed in discomfort.

Dagur pulled back to look down at him, darkly amused. “Never had one of those, I take it?”

“Uh, no. What was that supposed to be?” He asked, shakily.

“A mark to show everyone that you’re mine now. In case my brother manages to steal you back.” Tuff felt Dagur’s hands let go of his wrists to venture beneath his tunic. Calloused palms slid over his chest, making him whimper. “Of course, I have no intent of that happening.”

 _Okay, focus_ , Tuff thought to himself desperately. _Think with your head, not with your-_

His calming inner monologue shattered with an ungraceful squawk as Dagur’s fingers found his nipples and then pinched them. It hurt tremendously - in a good way. Tuff let out a low moan before he could stop himself. It sounded anything but discouraging.

Dagur stared down at him in astonishment before throwing back his head in laughter. “Oh, _you_ are going to be more fun than I thought, aren’t you?”

Tuff gasped and whined as he was given no quarter; Dagur leaned in to take one of the tender nubs into his mouth, thoroughly abusing it with teeth and tongue. The Berserker gave the other a twist for good measure and was rewarded with an open throated wail and a lithe body arching up against his.

The dragon rider shivered and thrashed beneath him, seemingly having some kind of small fit. Dagur made a noise of almost affectionate intrigue and draped his body over Tuffnut’s. It made his aroused state impossible to ignore.

Tuff was having a bit of the same trouble himself, panting and trying to will his blood flow in the opposite direction. He’d done a lot of things he was not supposed to be proud of. Sleeping with the enemy would probably top them.

“You are going to stay on this ship with me,” Dagur decided, languidly punctuating that statement with a kiss. “And we’re going to have lots of good times.”

“I’m-I’m not joining you,” Tuff protested weakly. Dagur nipped his jaw sharply.

“Of course you aren’t, idiot. You’re my prisoner,” he scoffed. “And anyway I _hate_ traitors.”

He felt somehow even worse upon hearing that.

Dagur’s hand was moving south, gripping the hemline of his pants and dragging it down over his hips. Tuffnut looked up pleadingly, on the verge of panic.

The Berserker chieftain saw his troubled expression and raised an eyebrow, though he did not pause undressing him. Dagur admired his body for only a moment before closing the distance between them. His hands were hot as they roved over Tuff’s bared skin, giving welcome relief from the chill in the air. Tuff squirmed at his touch, torn between distress and delight.

“You know, you almost seem like you’re trying to say you don’t want this,” Dagur smirked. He lightly scraped his fingernails down Tuff’s narrow hips, provoking another moan. He looked pointedly at the other’s erection. “Why are you denying yourself?”

“W-Wouldn’t it make me a traitor if I did want it?” He gasped unevenly.

“Hmm.” Dagur considered it for a moment. “No. If you weren’t still loyal to my brother, you would be throwing yourself at me with wild abandon. Instead you’re wary, vulnerable, frightened, guilty. You aren’t a traitor. Just a lowly prisoner, with a taste for domination and pain - which I am more than happy to provide. This situation works out well for both of us, doesn’t it?”

Not giving him a chance to answer, Dagur gripped his thighs and pushed them apart. A finger roughly probed his entrance, resulting in an awkward shriek. Tuff nearly snapped his legs shut on Dagur’s wrist.

Snorting in amusement, the Berserker pushed Tuff down by his shoulders and held him on his back. “ _You_ kissed _me_ , dragon rider. Stop being bashful or virtuous or whatever this is.” Dagur tilted his head. “Do I need to tie you up?”

Tuff shook his head, blue eyes widening. He shuddered with pleasure at the idea of it, nonetheless.

“You lie still then.” Dagur opened a drawer in a table nearby, retrieving a small pot of oil. “Legs open.”

He dipped his fingers into the oil, watching him. Tuff obeyed slowly, thighs trembling and skin flushed with embarrassment. “So, let me guess. This is your first time with another man isn’t it?”

Tuff muttered something almost too low for Dagur to hear, mostly aiming it towards the floor. Dagur heard it, and his laughter was anything but warm. “ _Nobody_? That explains a lot!”

Face burning with shame, Tuff suddenly wished he could disappear into the scales of the rug. He was nineteen, but nobody had propositioned him - not that he’d really advertised himself as available. (But then you couldn’t fail if you didn’t try, could you?)

“Really, are all the women and men on your island _blind_ or just _stupid_?” Dagur snorted then. Tuff glanced up at him in surprise, while something that had previously been crumpling slowly in his chest smoothed itself out and burst into happy little flames.

Oh no. Loki help him, he was _not_ internally swooning over a offhanded compliment from _Dagur the Deranged._ Sex was bad enough, he didn’t need this.

“Shit,” he muttered aloud, panicking.

“I know,” Dagur agreed, “It’s going to be hard being satisfied with any of _those_ yak-hands after you’ve been with me. But since I have no intention of letting you see your home or loved ones ever again, that’s one less thing you have to worry about. You can thank me later.”

Tuff drew in a sharp breath as something suddenly pushed into him, slick and unrelenting. He let it out in a harsh sob, writhing from the burning stretching sensation that flooded his awareness.

Dagur’s mouth crashed possessively against his yet again and Tuffnut allowed it, taking comfort in the distraction. He was still shaking, even after the pain lessened to a tolerable level and ignited little sparks of pleasure inside him. Dagur licked the beads of sweat along his collarbone, appearing to savor the rider’s involuntary noises as he stretched him - first with one finger, then two.

The Berserker gave him a moment to catch his breath before replacing his fingers with something much thicker. A new wave of intense discomfort clashed with pleasure, driving out another wail.

Tuff didn’t even realize he was openly sobbing until Dagur’s hand caressed his face, stroking his cheek gently. “Shhh. You’ll adjust. It will only hurt until then.” Though he sounded mildly exasperated, Dagur was showing remarkably more patience than anyone else he knew probably would have. It stung a little to realize that, and worse - it set off another spiral of conflicting emotions inside.

He swallowed against the gratingly sensible voice telling him these feelings were _wrong_. The next time Dagur bent down to nip at his throat, Tuffnut lightly brushed his lips across the vivid scar beneath Dagur’s eye.

He felt every bit the idiot everyone always said he was. Tuff lowered his eyes and so couldn’t see the sudden heated look the Berserker gave him. Dagur began moving his hips then, effectively (thankfully) shutting up his mind.

Bright colors burst in his vision when he came, harder than he ever recalled happening when he’d been alone. He didn’t mind when Dagur continued at the same angle, sending almost painful aftershocks through his body. When the Berserker was at last sated, he pulled out of Tuff, panting and laughing unsteadily.

The chieftain glanced over Tuffnut’s gasping and disheveled form. The rider was too sore to move let alone sit up. Dagur rolled his eyes. “Loki, give me patience with virgins,” he chuckled.

Well-muscled arms pulled him upright and Tuff felt himself scooped up, carried bridal style over to the fur covered bed. He sighed blissfully as the soft wolf and bear hides caressed his skin. A rough wet towel scraped over his thighs and stomach, then rudely between his legs, jarring a yelp out of him.

Dagur carelessly tossed the rag aside, and climbed into bed next to him. He’d laced himself back in and was still fully clothed, while Tuff’s own garments still rested in a heap on the floor. The Berserker pulled him against his chest, holding him there by the waist. His other hand sought out the knots in Tuffnut’s back, kneading them until the soreness melted away.

That didn’t help matters at all as far as Tuff was concerned. He felt vulnerable enough already, naked body pressed against the leathers and metals that made up Dagur’s clothing. The Berserker was ruthless and as murderous as the worst of them, but Tuff could only feel a hopeless addiction for more of his touch.

He could field insults all day long. He could absorb blows and kicks and cruel words, sometimes even enjoy them. But little kindnesses and thoughtlessly genuine compliments weren’t things Tuff knew how to deal with at all.

Dagur lifted Tuff’s chin to inspect his handiwork; the bruise on his throat was darkening impressively. “You _are_ mine, you know,” he commented. “Just in case you ever do get rescued. You’ll remember that, won’t you?”

Bewildered at the idea that anyone wanted him all that much, Tuffnut nodded faintly. He was rewarded with a grin and a bruising squeeze of his hip.

“Good. Get some rest and don’t bother running. Not unless you think you can tame an eel and teach it how to fly.”

Tuff laughed uneasily at the joke (he at least thought the chieftain was trying to joke) and laid his head on one of the pillows. His eyes followed Dagur as he left the cabin, securely locking Tuffnut in.

Eventually he drifted into a troubled sleep, cursing himself out and trying not to dwell on how empty the room felt without the Berserker in it.


	3. Ingravescence

It had only been a week, and Tuffnut felt utterly lost.

He missed Ruffnut desperately. She would be frantic to find him now, probably going off on her own to search if the others had given up. The thought of her being sick with worry made his insides squirm with guilt; he was hardly in any danger.

Well, then again, he wasn’t exactly not in danger either.

Dagur had kept him mostly sequestered in the cabin; locked in when they weren’t together. To say the Berserker was always gentle would have been a lie, but Tuffnut still clung to every kindness allotted to him as though it were a lifeline.

It wasn’t the food and water that counted as such; that was just baseline decency and common sense. The same could be said for the hours of supervised sunlight he got on deck, or Dagur himself treating his wounds after a harsh session. (After all, what use was he to Dagur if he became ill?)

But the things Dagur said sometimes would catch Tuff off guard. Off handed compliments would bring him to tears. A unexpected caress could crumble him faster than any blow. Dagur had noticed this each time and yet had shown mercy in not using it against him. At least, not in any way Tuffnut could sense.

“I can’t believe your friends haven’t found you yet,” Dagur commented, running a salve-coated finger along the ridge of a welt across Tuff's hip. “It’s true the winds have been rough and it’s near hurricane season. Perhaps dragons can’t fly in this weather, burdened with you riders.”

“My sister’s looking for me. I know it. She’d check north first though. It’s the only direction she knows. At least I think it’s north … ?” Tuff fretted. He wiped at his stinging eyes. This had been one of those harsh sessions, even by his standards. He had come regardless; Dagur was insistent on such matters.

“There’s no way they aren’t ALL looking,” Dagur said, sounding sure of himself. “You must be very important to my brother. I mean, he sent you in alone to spy on me, to find out all about my plans with the Skrill. He must have had great faith in you. I have to admit, you were very convincing and clever. Ingenious really.”

Dagur gathered up Tuffs braids, lifting them away from where they rested over his shoulder. He started to gently spread salve across the cuts and welts on Tuff’s suddenly tense neck. “So of course everyone’s looking for you. If you were one of mine, I would never have let anything happen to you. Bravery and cunning are incredibly rare to find among my men. Not to mention your gift with poetry.”

Though uneasy that Dagur had remembered his ruse, which had helped lead to the Berserker’s defeat and lengthy time in Alvin’s dungeon, Tuff couldn’t help but feel a swell of happiness at those words. They didn’t seem like empty compliments or attempts to flatter him. The man had the strength to take whatever he wanted from Tuffnut, so there was no reason for him to use false flattery to win it. 

“I’m surprised you even remembered-” he grinned shyly. Dagur suddenly yanked on his braids hard enough to nearly send Tuff backwards over his lap. Yelping, Tuffnut scrambled to brace his arms so his welts didn’t make contact with anything solid. Dagur held him there, smirking at the little distressed sounds he was making.

“Of course I remembered. I never forget a terrified face, and when I held that axe to your throat? Well, it was the same face you made when you were bent over that desk just a couple nights ago. Begging me not to stop.” The Berserker looked thoughtful. “You know, your scared face and your sex face are really kind of similar.”

He allowed Tuff roll over onto his stomach and gathered the trembling dragon rider into his arms. Dagur didn’t do anything further, save tending to the remaining lacerations on his body. Tuffnut pressed his forehead against Dagur’s shoulder, tensely wondering whether punishment was still coming for that, or if it had already been dealt.

“Why are you so frightened?” The Berserker asked eventually. “I already said I was impressed. Do you really think I’d hold a grudge against you for serving my brother so intelligently?”

Tuff looked at him in confused surprise then laughed. “He thinks we’re idiots!” he blurted without meaning to.

Dagur stopped what he was doing and stared, completely thrown off. “… What?”

He stared at Dagur in mortification and bit his lip. "N-Nev-"

"Don't you tell me 'nevermind ', don't you dare! You explain exactly what you meant about my brother." Dagur wasn't the type to take disloyalty lightly. Tuffnut attempted to back up, but was caught by the elbows. The Berserker appeared to collect himself, and exhaled slowly. "What did you mean by that?" Dagur asked, in a more patient tone.

“H-Hiccup never listens to us," Tuff falteringly explained. Dagur stroked his face, encouraging him to go on. "He and Astrid talk constantly about how dumb we are, usually when we’re standing right there, because they think we’re too stupid to recognize insults! Yeah, and that stings a lot - but trust me, we’re used to it."

“Then why do you put up with it?” The chieftain asked, completely mystified. 

“We don't have a choice. Our family name is mud. Everyone on Berk knows the Thorstons aren't worth dragon spit. Nobody marries us or even does any business with our elders, and if anything goes missing we're the first suspects. Well, usually they're right, I guess that doesn't help."

"Mm. No, probably not," Dagur agreed. 

"Aside from dragon riding, my sister and I have nothing to offer. The other option was to go become pirates with our aunt, and be banned from Berk. Or for my sister to have a kid out of wedlock and guilt money out of the father." Tuff laughed bitterly. "Just like our Mom."

Tuff trailed off into awkward silence. Dagur’s kindness and seemingly genuine praise had rubbed some calloused edges raw again, and now he was unable to cope as well with the contempt Berk had for his entire clan. He slowly extracted himself from Dagur’s arms, certain the man saw him as abhorrent now.

To his surprise, Dagur didn’t allow it, pulling Tuffnut closer to lie against him. The man had comforted him before, but never for something he himself had not done. Dagur kissed his temple, and looked at Tuff with something akin to sympathy. “Is that why you think no-one's looking for you?”

“We’re not important enough to anyone on Berk. Even together, we don’t really have any skills like the other riders. There's no reason anyone would be rushing off to get just me back."

“That’s not true,” Dagur said, sounding fierce. “Of all the dragon riders, you and your sister are the most unpredictable, recklessly brave, and infuriatingly resourceful. I’d literally kill for people like you on my side. If my brother and the rest of Berk don’t respect you, then clearly they don’t deserve you.”

Tuffnut was silent for such a long while, that Dagur lightly jostled him to see if he was awake. It surprised a hitching breath out of him, and he hid his face further against Dagur’s chest, trying to hide exactly how much this was hurting him. The Berserker held him, making his welts flare anew, but Tuff found himself not caring.

Dagur the Deranged was telling him that he and his sister mattered. Not Hiccup. Not their friends. Not their parents, or anyone from home. It hurt and bewildered him to hear what he’d always needed (craved) to hear from the mouth of an enemy. It wasn’t Dagur’s fault; he wasn’t trying to turn him against his friends and clan. 

All the painful resentment was there however, blazing like a red hot brand - waiting quietly for Tuff to acknowledge it.

“Alright,” Tuff heard Dagur mutter gruffly. “Well, I can send a message reminding Hiccup that we still have you. And a map, with coordinates. Would that … make you feel better?”

Dagur’s cluelessness was endearing. Mostly because he was trying and it meant he cared. Tuff laughed through his tears and snaked his arms around Dagur, returning the embrace. He struggled to find humor, knowing that nobody needed to see him breaking apart. “It’ll sound like you’re desperate to give me back,” he managed. “It won’t surprise them, but it will get their attention.”

“I’m not going to give you back,” Dagur growled. “There would be a battle, I’d maim maybe two or three of them and force the rest to retreat. That way you can see that they’re at least trying to find you. If my brother had any sense, he would be trying much harder than this.”

Tuff looked up at him. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know that. So don’t expect I’m going to go easy on you later. Or that I’m going to let anyone take you from me. You’re _mine._ "

He nodded, feeling safe and protected by the possessiveness in Dagur’s tone. Tuffnut laid his head down on Dagur’s chest, soothed by the sound of the Berserker’s heartbeat.

Tuff couldn’t help but think that if his friends didn’t show up, he’d at least a solid answer as to whether they wanted him back.  
He also couldn’t help but think that if someone like Astrid or Fishlegs had been captured, this grandiose gesture on an enemy’s part would never have been necessary. Hiccup would have found and rescued them within hours.

However much he tried to believe Dagur’s arguments to the contrary, there was no denying that truth. Sometimes the truth could cut unbelievably deep.


	4. Incapable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dagur's POV

His brother had to be the most devious, underhanded, calculating little runt the Archipelago had ever seen.

Hiccup had to have known what would happen. He'd counted on this particular hostage getting inside Dagur's head and messing everything up. That had to be why Hiccup was doing this - leaving Tuffnut here for so long. Trying to make Dagur like him, to make him vulnerable.

The boy's acting had been very good, from the little sounds he made during sex to the way he curled against Dagur's side at night and immediately fell asleep. As though Dagur couldn't just reach down and strangle the life out of his body. Several times he almost had . . . well, given it serious thought at least.

Dagur had slowly increased the pain over pleasure, to the point even he wasn't enjoying the sex any more, waiting for the twin to break and cry for mercy. To start showing that he was afraid of Dagur and didn't really like him; just waiting for a chance to stab him in the back like everyone else.

This was everything Dagur had believed with the utmost conviction, until now.

When he'd mentioned and praised Tuffnut's disguise as a Berserker, all those years ago, he'd been anticipating a panicked confession that the youth was indeed here on Hiccup's orders.

The outburst that happened instead had been wholly unexpected.

Tuffnut couldn't have been acting. The pit of low self-worth was something Dagur had crawled out of a long time ago, but he recognized the signs of someone mired in it. The boy thought he meant nothing to Berk, and after hearing how they treated his family, Dagur could see why.

Even Dagur's very last attempt to ferret out the truth his paranoia had scrambled together - sending a message to Hiccup for extraction - had been met with nothing but gratitude and cautious hope. A spy would have talked him out of it, not wanting to be 'rescued' too soon.

Evening found Dagur now, watching the red sun turn the waters into a shimmering bloodbath. It calmed him considerably. He had to think of what to do.

One option was to not make good on his offer, sending nothing. Tuffnut wouldn't be considered a traitor if he was abandoned to the Berserker's, and the boy would be hurt enough to see no problems with the new life Dagur could offer him.

That was where the problem lied; Dagur wasn't sure how much more he could stand seeing Tuffnut hurt. Things had changed between them, without asking Dagur's opinion or permission on anything.

Tuff had been allowed out on deck most of the day, for one. He hadn't specifically asked. Dagur just thought that he could use more sunlight, and also attention.

The crew were laughing hard as the boy spun a tale of crafty tricksters and 'pregnant' thunder gods. Dagur hadn't heard this story, but he couldn't stop a grin as he listened to the way Tuffnut told it.

"So Loki told Thor to lie down, after he fed him all this fish oil and eel pie and yak cheese and - basically stuff that makes you need to run into the deep woods with a shovel and an extra pair of clean pants."

Dagur allowed a small chuckle to escape, only because it was drowned out by encouraging roars of laughter.

"He put a cork in Thor's butt, and just left him, saying he'd be right back to deliver the 'baby'. So Thor lied there for maybe a week and a day, guts rumbling like a over fed dragon, and at some point he fell dead asleep. Ratatosk later chanced to peek in the window and saw Thor laying there naked. Being curious, he climbed inside to see what was going on. He eventually found the cork . . ."

There were groans, as though Tuff's listeners could see the end coming a mile away. Tuff just smirked at them, in a way that made Dagur's chest feel a little tight. He loved that little grin - when had that happened?

"Of course he pulled it out - and the force of all that Thor's mighty ass could contain blasted poor Ratatosk right across the room, so that he bashed his little squirrel head against the wall and fell down stunned."

Dagur wasn't one to laugh, but it didn't stop him enjoying Tuffnut's expression at the reactions of his listeners. He looked so elated to have such an appreciative audience - and the men really were appreciative. Dagur hadn't had to threaten them at all, the boy was that good of a storyteller.

"And Thor woke up . . . sat up very slowly . . . and cradled tiny Ratatosk in his enormous hands. He started to get real choked up, and with proud tears dancing in his eyes, he clasped the squirrel to his bosom saying . . ."

Tuff paused to theatrically deepen his voice. (Dagur thought he sounded quite hilariously convincing.) "You're hairy, and small, and covered in shit . . . But you're mine, and I love you!'"

Dagur snorted, and leaned against the ship's railing as the other Berserkers cheered and howled with mirth. Tuff gave a bow, looking rather pleased with himself. It was a good change from how heartbroken he'd looked the past few nights.

The youth really didn't believe they would come for him. If the riders ever did - with or without Dagur's orchestrated guidance - he was probably going to start yelling at them before he blew them out of the air. If they were still alive after that, he'd yell at them some more.

Tuffnut approached him at the railing as another man stood up, eager to continue the entertainment. Dagur regarded the boy coolly, trying not to let his fondness show too much. "Good tale. I've never heard that one."

"It's not one I get to tell a whole lot. Thor's a big deal on Berk, but you guys appreciate Loki. That's pretty awesome."

"Hel is the one who I offer to the most, but Loki sounds perfect for you and your sister."

Tuff's arm pressed against Dagur's and the Berserker glanced over at him. Oh no. It had been a mistake to mention his sister, especially when he wasn't entirely keen on keeping his word.

"How are you going to send a message anyway? You don't have a trained Terror."

It wasn't the question Tuff wanted to ask, and any fool could see that. "I have ways. And they'll come for you. Or else I'll personally hunt them down and ask them why not, shortly before disembowelment."

A light snicker was his reply and Tuffnut leaned into him, golden braids falling over Dagur's shoulder. The chieftain swallowed, feeling suddenly too warm as they softly brushed his skin. He glanced over at his men. They were watching Sven, who was attempting to juggle knives. His failure was quite comical, almost riveting. The crew hardly needed their presence on deck any longer.

The Berserker wrapped arm around Tuff briefly, as though to embrace, then moved like a cobra, flipping the rider over his shoulder like a meal sack. Tuffnut yelped as Dagur carried him like that to the cabin.

"Savage, unless it's dinner, don't disturb us for the rest of the night, hmm?" Dagur called. A teasing cheer went up and Dagur grinned - mostly because he knew Tuffnut liked it, despite his squirming.

He teasingly delivered a bite to Tuffnut's hip and was rewarded with a pleading whimper, one that sent a jolt through him. Dagur kicked the door shut behind him, and all too soon had the dragon rider writhing and arching beneath him.

The chieftain knew he'd have to reach a decision soon; as it was, his method of passing along rumor from armada to merchant ship was going to take at least another week. It would reach Trader Johann eventually, and then Hiccup - who'd trust a rumor far more than any method of direct contact with Dagur.

Though really, if it really took his friends another week to make an effort? Well, then Dagur would get his answer after all . . . and so would Tuffnut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The Loki story is from Neil Gaiman's Sandman comics, so I cannot claim its genius)


	5. Incaution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dagur's POV

The entire ship listed briefly from the force of a fiery blast. It wasn't quite enough of an angle to spill them out of bed, but Dagur protectively wrapped an arm around Tuff's waist and kept him anchored at his side. 

"Bit late in the night for this, brother," the Berserker sighed. Even in the dim light of the cabin, Dagur's expression was carefully blank. Tuffnut's was a mixture of dismay and longing.

It had been a little over a month now, since Tuffnut had been captured. Though he loathed doing it, Dagur had kept his word and sent along a message. Then, after another week, he'd sent a second one - threatening the boy's execution. He of course hadn't told Tuff about it, but it had felt better than sitting idly by and watching him slowly accept that he'd been right about his value to Berk. 

The whole thing unsettled him deeply and Dagur had honestly considered abandoning his southward route to purchase new ships and going straight back to the Edge. He wouldn't give Tuffnut back for a king's ransom, but the boy deserved some answers at least. Because how dare they? How dare they just abandon him like this?

Dagur was in no mood to be lenient. He wouldn't kill them if he could help it, but he'd give them little other choice than to ride off like cowards - letting Tuffnut see the truth for himself. Or perhaps he would take prisoners, as many as possible, just so he could scream at them.

The ship received another blast, and Dagur was already dressing, feet planted firmly as he put on his armor. He didn't so much as stumble, but Tuffnut nearly crashed into the desk.

Dagur pulled him to his feet and kissed him fiercely. "Stay here," he ordered, but then thought better of it at the desperate look on Tuffnut's face. 

"What if they hurt you?"

"I doubt it," Dagur shrugged. "But if you want to see them, you'd better get dressed first." He grinned, teasingly running a hand down Tuff's flank. The boy laughed sheepishly and scrambled to find his clothing. Dagur would have been more than happy to watch, but the attack hadn't let up. He could hear bolas and chains firing and hurried on deck to survey the situation.

"We can't see any riders, sir," Savage informed him. "They appeared to be wild dragons defending their Queen's nest."

Dagur opened his mouth to demand how Savage knew - feeling a sharp disappointment in his gut. This was too cruel; he'd been expecting Hiccup to finally charge in to save the day. He'd been waiting to bring him and that stupid Night Fury down, to hold Hiccup accountable for making Tuffnut suffer for so long . . .

And he had the audacity to not show up, _again?_

Dagur turned abruptly back to the cabin door to lock it, to make sure Tuffnut stayed there - he could still spare the boy the truth if he was clever. Tuff was quicker, darting out before Dagur had a chance to turn the key. The Berserker grabbed his arm and pulled him back, just as part of the yardarm crashed in flames to the deck where he would have been. Tuffnut flinched back against him, surveying the skies.

"Whoa, they're sort of overcompensating a bit, aren't they?"

Dagur felt wretched. "Yes," he muttered. "I mean, no, not really." He couldn't bear it, the way those gray-blue eyes scanned so hopefully for a Zippleback with only one rider. 

"Get back in the cabin," Dagur ordered. 

"What? But -"

"Now, _prisoner_ ," The Berserker said pointedly. He wrenched open the door, ready to shove the protesting dragon rider inside, when Sven ran up to them, helmet and parts of his beard on fire.

"Dagur, the wild dragons are retreating - Yvok turned us starboard so we're no longer heading for their island!"

At Dagur's wild-eyed look of murderous rage, Sven immediately flung _himself_ overboard.

Tuff's expression had gone cold. "Oh." He said flatly, after a long awful moment. 

Before Dagur could say a word, the boy slipped back into the cabin and shut the door with a soft click. The Berserker stared after him miserably until Savage coughed. "Your orders, sir?"

"What do you think?" Dagur snapped, rounding on him. "Only the obvious ones! As soon as we're in the clear, clean up this mess and repair what you can. I want a full report on any damage to the rest of my armada within an hour!"

He glared at the cabin door, unsure whether he should go in there immediately or give Tuff a few moments to himself.

"Sir," Savage ventured, and though he flinched at the warning glower, he still pressed onwards. "What exactly are you planning to do with him? It's seeming more likely he's not going to lure Hiccup to you. That he's here to stay."

"In case you're _completely_ oblivious, he is still serving a purpose," Dagur iced, dangerously. "And if you're about to give me a lecture about going soft, then you are more than welcome to join Sven!"

"No, no, quite the opposite! I - well, the men and I - were simply wondering if this means he's one of the crew now? They rather do like him, and his stories."

Dagur looked briefly surprised, but then frowned thoughtfully moments later. "I never was intending to give him back. But it's his choice. Though it doesn't really seem like he has much of one now, does it." 

Savage rubbed his chin. "You know, those dragon riders have always come for one of their own before. Even just the dragons. Have you considered the possibility they've landed _themselves_ in some sort of trouble?"

No. No, he hadn't. Dagur glanced again to the empty skies, deciding. "We still need to buy those new ships, Savage. And in the meantime, I suggest we keep our ears open for any rumors. At much as I hate sharing, I gotta admit - Hiccup is rather good at making enemies. He and his little team might be the ones needing a rescue."

He looked at Savage sharply, opening the cabin door. "Don't mention this to anyone until you know something for sure, and report it only to me. I won't have his hopes raised again for nothing."

"Yes, sir," his second-in-command nodded. Once Dagur was inside, Savage headed off to start a log of all the damage, pausing only to order a few men to haul the floundering Sven back on board. It would be a pity to waste such a comically bad juggler.

\-----

Tuffnut was curled up in bed, feigning sleep. The tense set of his back and shoulders gave away the truth. Dagur sat down next to him and put a hand on his hip. After a long moment, Tuffnut rolled on his back to look at him. "You won't get tired of me, right?" He sounded almost frantic. "I'll do _anything_ you want --"

And then he broke down utterly. 

Dagur made an attempt at various soothing noises, gathering Tuffnut against him. He knew this was the sound of hope finally breaking apart, and he couldn't stand it. Dagur wrapped around the youth protectively, dragging over the blanket to ensure his warmth. Tuffnut sobbed against his chest, sounding panicked until Dagur kissed his forehead. 

"It's okay. Of course you're upset. _Anyone_ would be upset," he murmured. 

Tuff's grief didn't go away, but it became more steady now that he wasn't fighting it for fear of rejection. He gave Dagur's jaw a shakily grateful kiss and hid his face again. 

"You know you can have a home with us, if you want it," Dagur eventually offered, once Tuffnut seemed to be over the worst of it. He gave only a faint whimper in response, but hooked his leg around Dagur's, tangling them further. It was as good as any verbal answer. The Berserker gave a soft chuckle.

"I will have to go see to the ships in an hour," he told the rider. "Are you alright to come with me?" 

Tuff nodded against his chest, then pulled back to wipe at his eyes and look up at him. "I'll still be yours, right? If I join you?" 

"Oh, you'll be _mine_ no matter what," Dagur promised. There was a playful tone to his words, but his gaze was serious. "In fact, there's a certain mark on you that needs refreshing."

Tuffnut eagerly exposed his throat and Dagur didn't hold back, sucking hard over the faded spot. The noises the boy made were enough to get him going, and a quick check with his hand confirmed Tuff's own aroused state. 

What the hell - they had an hour, didn't they? And Dagur certainly knew ways to make Tuff stop thinking.


	6. Incentive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dagur's POV

Much planning had gone into this exchange of ships and gold, and Dagur saw that he'd been right in taking precautions. As it turned out, he should have taken even more.

The ship merchant was a weaselly sycophant, one whose flattery didn't quite match up to his expression. One reason why Dagur had refused to go onto Mersalle's main ship after he'd toured the ships he wanted to purchase, demanding the man step onto his own - accompanied by his entourage. The muscled bodies on either side of Mersalle certainly outclassed the biggest of Dagur's men, though it was questionable whether they knew how to use that to their advantage.

"As you can attest, everything is in order," the merchant was saying, grinning so that his gold fillings glimmered in the sunlight. "If you want the ships, it's the same amount of gold we discussed."

Dagur made a show of considering whether he could do with or without those ships, and glanced casually toward the horizon. He hadn't brought his entire fleet along for this, only four other ships. The merchant himself had nine ships - all manned, including the three he wanted. They'd slowly shifted position in the course of the morning, into a familiar ambush pattern.

Because _of course._

Inwardly, he fumed at the irony. The one time Dagur hadn't planned a double-cross, the ONE single time . . . and all because he was in a hurry and didn't need any loose ends trailing after him, just in case he needed to go rescue his dragon-riding brother.

The Chieftain's eyes narrowed. Tuffnut had been locked away in the cabin, much to the young man's protest - but Dagur wasn't paranoid without reason. Men like Mersalle found value in selling anything and _anyone_.

He decided he might allow Mersalle to make off with some gold and maybe even one of Dagur's ships in the skirmish, but if he so much as touched the handle of that cabin door? Dagur would _slaughter_ him.

"So, when _were_ you planning to attack? Anytime _today?_ I'm kind of in a hurry."

"Hmm. I can see you're a smart man, Dagur. You've already realized we have you at a disadvantage, though you don't yet realize how big. Why don't we settle this peacefully? You can have your lives . . . for every last piece of gold you and your men possess."

Dagur looked at him incredulously, momentarily too outraged for words. He'd heard a litany of stupid demands from his foes over the years. _Stop attacking us, release those dragons, blah blah blah._ But demanding all his gold was _new_ and incredibly annoying. How did this buffoon think he was he supposed to keep on sailing without currency? He couldn't just rob every dock and harbor for food and supplies or pay the soldiers on his armada with _credit_ -

"Ah, I know - a seemingly unreasonable request. But I know a merchant in the very next port, a moneylender with fair enough rates, who can front you anything you need -"

"I am _not_ borrowing gold from _anyone_ ," Dagur snarled, hand going for his weapon. Mersalle's soldiers followed suit, and so did every Berserker on the ship.

A low impressed whistle made Dagur turn glance irritably behind him, where he saw - with no small amount of consternation and alarm - Tuff sitting cross-legged on the prow of the ship's railing. How had he --?!

"Let me guess, this moneylender - family of yours? And his 'fair rate' is probably something like twenty percent compounded interest a month? That's the _real_ piracy here."

Dagur schooled his expression into a mask of calm, though he could honestly strangle the Berkian. It would be much harder to protect him if he was running about _on deck._

Mersalles face was indignant, but quickly he gave an oily smile. "Even if that were the case, it's certainly prefer able than being slaughtered, splintered, and left for the sharks."

"Nice alliteration," Tuff interjected, before Dagur could reply, "Though I'd replace 'sharks' with 'sea-snakes' since the 'shh' sound doesn't really go along with-"

"Yes, Tuffnut, speaking of ' _shh_ '!" Dagur snapped, giving Tuff a meaningful glare. Tuffnut stuck out his tongue impishly as soon as Dagur's back was to him.

"The whole lot of you can 'shh' - I wasn't finished!" Mersalle shouted, indignantly. "Each of your ships have weapons of _utter devastation_ pointed straight at them, a rare black powder from the East, known for turning even the biggest armada into smithereens and bone splinters!"

He raised a hand mirror and caught the sun with it. "Allow me to give you a sample of what damage it can really do."

There were shouts as the command was received and a large explosion sent a hot wind racing over the water and assembled mercs and soldiers. A ship was suddenly burning and sinking as men shouted and jumped into the ocean.

It wasn't one of Dagur's.

"WHAT?!" Mersalle screeched, seeing his own floundering men as they swam for the other vessels.

"Oh good, I was hoping that stuff was _at least_ flammable," Tuff remarked to the distraught merchant. "Ever since I overheard two of your buddies talking about stealing all of my Chieftain's gold and quote: 'throwing his mangled body overboard'."

Dagur's breath left him soundlessly at what Tuff had just called him.

The young man grinned sharply and leaned forward a bit. "But really, _explosive_ is just as good, if not better." As if on cue, another of Mersalle's ships exploded into fiery bits, followed by another and yet another - the traveling flames causing a chain reaction. "Next time, maybe don't buy quite so much in bulk," Tuff advised icily.

Never had Dagur been more attracted to him than in that moment.

Mersalle was shrieking curses, but he and his bullies surrendered their weapons as nearly every ship but the three he'd shown to Dagur were destroyed. Mersalle's one remaining ship was swiftly resembling a barge of wet rats as drenched men climbed aboard, clinging to ropes and netting.

Dagur regained his composure and took charge, advancing on the cowering would-be pirate. "I should skin you alive and make myself a new rug for what you just tried to pull," he snarled.

"Dagur please! Allow me to make it up to you - you can have those three beautiful ships for no charge whatsoever!" Mersalle pleaded, backing up to the railing. His two bodyguards had already jumped overboard and were swimming away fast.

"Really? Wow, thanks, _I was going to take them either way!_ I hope you enjoy your long empty-handed trip home, because killing you would negate your utter humiliation here, and I'd _really_ hate to do that!"

Dagur picked the man up bodily and flung him into the ocean, watching as his screaming flailing form slapped harshly onto the surface of the water - with a sound that made several of his men cringe. Mersalle let out a pathetic burble and temporarily sunk below the waves like a drifting starfish. A few moments later he was above water again, dog paddling frantically toward his boat.

" _And as for you!_ " Dagur shouted, spinning around to yell up at Tuff, only to find that the youth had jumped down to stand right next to him.

"Wow, who are _you_ so mad at?" Tuff asked cheekily, and Dagur honestly wasn't sure whether to kiss him or spank him in front of the entire crew.

"Who in Hel's name let you out?!"

"Sven, but only because I said I really had to use the bathroom. I wanted to check stuff out after that, and make sure you were safe."

"Do you _know_ what could have happened to you?" Dagur demanded, looking dangerously around for Sven, who had wisely ducked out of sight.

"Yeah, but to be fair, they didn't know _I_ could happen to _them,_ " Tuffnut answered candidly.

After a long moment, Dagur's mouth twitched up into a smile. "You are definitely a force to be reckoned with, aren't you?" He pulled Tuffnut closer with a hand around his waist. "Also, 'my Chieftain?' Truly?"

"I already agreed to join you. Don't keep me locked up when there might be danger," Tuffnut pleaded. "I want to protect you. Not that you need it -" he amended hastily, at Dagur's narrowed eyes. "At least, not always?"

With a sigh, Dagur caressed Tuff's face, smiling softly as he leaned into the touch like an affectionate cat. "Fine." He relented. "But since you've fought more from the back of a dragon than in close combat, I'll be teaching you some moves, and until you best me - you're not engaging anybody in anything and you're keeping your skinny butt out of close range. I'm serious."

Tuff grinned, looking relieved. "I promise, Dagur, I will _never ever_ let you down or give you any reason to regret keeping me."

Something in his tone hit hard, and Dagur faltered, looking at him in concern. "What?"

The youth smiled again, just a little shakily. "Nothing. Don't you need to secure those ships?"

With a scowl, Dagur barked orders down the line - incensed they weren't already being carried out by these idiots, instead of them standing around _gawking._ He turned back to Tuffnut as the men scrambled, and pulled him into a fierce kiss. The Berkian all but melted against him.

"You don't have to try to impress me," he said, once they broke for air. "You don't have to risk your life to convince me that I want to keep you. You're already good enough to be _mine -_ you know that, don't you?"

The doubtful muffled noise Tuff gave as he buried his face in Dagur's shoulder was a clear enough answer. Mind made up, he kissed the boy again and firmly took his arm. "Come over here. It's okay, come on. The men have all been waiting for it to be made official anyway."

He led Tuffnut over to the remainder of his men, who were yelling jeers at Mersalle's retreating ships.

"Never thought I'd see such a miserable pile of wet shit sailing away from a fight!" Dagur hollered over the them. Cheers and laughter went up as the men turned to pay attention to him. "And it was a _Berserker_ that sent them all running, wasn't it?"

Another loud chorus of cheers broke out. "I think a fair number of you know exactly who I'm talking about, but for any of you who might've been storing their heads up their asses for the past few weeks . . ." Dagur wrapped an arm around Tuff's shoulders and gave him a little push forward.

He didn't even have to say anything else, the Berserkers whooped and several moved forward to give Tuff a proper welcome, clapping him on the back and giving arm-clasps of friendship. Sven picked him up and hugged him, bawling with happiness.

Tuff looked apprehensive and overwhelmed at first, but almost immediately after, Dagur saw a subtle change in his demeanor. He looked absolutely floored that the men would be so happy he was one of them. Dagur figured he'd wait a bit before rescuing him; he had his own thanks to give later, in privacy.

Savage sidled up to him. "News, sir," he said quietly.

"What is it?" Dagur asked calmly, keeping an eye on Tuff to make sure the boy's attention was elsewhere.

"It appears most of the other riders have indeed been captured - by dragon hunters. The Grimborns."

"Damn. I'd heard of them. Even hoped one day we could have had some kind of alliance. Their dragons taken as well?"

"Not all. Fishlegs and Snotlout are free, both with their dragons, and after failing to rescue the others they flew to Berk to inform Stoick. Word is, the Chief himself is tracking down Viggo Grimborn's ship before it can get to the High Market. I imagine he'll be selling all onboard his ship, not just the Night Fury."

"Looks like we need to head to the High Market then. We'll have to meet them there." Dagur glanced at Tuffnut then back to Savage. "Not a word of why we're going there to anyone yet. I want more information and for him _not_ to be an anxious wreck the whole way there."

"Understood, sir. I wonder if he'll choose to stay once he knows?"

Dagur scoffed. "Are you kidding? Of course he'll stay, look how happy he is. Besides, I can keep him much safer than those idiots could."

He didn't pay Savage any mind as he walked away, just watching Tuff. Something in Dagur's chest grew warm as he thought of the cold look in Tuff's eye, staring down Mersalle as the man's livelihood was destroyed in front of him. Beautiful in its brutality. And all because the shrimpy little bastard had _threatened_ him.

The youth was a Berserker at the very core of him, and Dagur could not be happier or more proud to call Tuffnut his own. He put Savage's concerns far from his mind as he finally walked forward, intent on recapturing the former dragon-rider's attention for himself.


End file.
